


state of love and trust

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Bloodplay, Daddy Kink, Disassociation, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Needles, Perceived Emotional Infidelity, Self-Harm, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: Jenny and Momo are besties 4ever. Just ask Jared.





	state of love and trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homo_pink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homo_pink/gifts).



> Takes place a year or so into Jensen's life on the bus. He goes from 15 to 16 over the course of the story.
> 
> For E. Thank you for letting me write your plot bunny, ladybug<3
> 
> Title from Pearl Jam.

The last time Jared Padalecki had been to a mall, Britney Spears hadn’t shaved her head yet.

But here he is, twenty-eight and in a moderately successful trash-rock band, and he’s holding a sizeable pink bag from Victoria’s Secret, a heavy one from Journeys, and a shamefully hidden black one from Hot Topic.

Their body jewelry had been on sale. Fuck off.

“Can we get ice cream?” Jensen asks, his voice a teensy bit deeper now than it had been when they’d first met, his eyes a little closer to Jared’s because he’s grown a couple of inches, but Jared won’t mention either thing, not ever.

It’s a sensitive topic.

“Ice cream?” Jared says with a smirk, and Jensen takes it for the _yes_ it is. “It’s December.”

“So? We’re indoors. There’s like heat on in here or something.” Jensen isn’t holding Jared’s hand, has some kind of exacting intuition about Jared’s level of comfort in these kinds of settings, but he’s holding one roped handle of the Vicki’s Secret bag in Jared’s grip, and apparently that’s good enough for him.

Jensen’ll be sixteen in three months, whether he likes it or not. Jared is determined to make Jensen feel as young and little as he thinks he is for as long as Jensen will let him.

“You have to eat it slowly,” Jared replies, like he’s being indulgent. “And you have to see if Jace wants any.”

“Momo!” Jensen shouts, his voice gone sweet and high, warbly as a little girl. He lets go of the bag and dashes across the aisle in the middle of the crowded mall in Olympia, Washington, a place Jared likes to stop and linger for awhile every time they end up over here; his grungy, blackened heart requires it.

Jared smiles as a disapproving mother turns to watch Jensen dash across her path in black short-shorts, hot pink mesh tights, and a white crop-top that says Blowjob Bib, and he doesn’t miss the hungry interest of her bored husband that follows. He trails along slowly after Jensen, giving a quick, lewd wink to a sullen preteen boy following a few steps behind the rest of his family.

By the time he gets to the middle of the aisle where kiosks are set up to sell random shit and lines of black massages chairs are waiting for money and achy legs, Jensen is sitting on Jason’s lap and giggling like he’s being tickled. Jared swallows down his instinct to glare at them both, his smile staying plastered on his face even as it dampens a little.

“Can you feel it?” Jason asks Jensen, sprawled out in a massage chair and jiggling as he’s kneaded and rubbed by a machine, his voice trembling with it. Jared comes to a full stop, bags gripped tight in his hands.

“Yes!” Jensen squirms in Jason’s lap, a move that would have Jared himself gripping those hips and holding him down to feel the full effects of a plush teen ass, and his smile is radiant when it finds Jared. “I can feel the vibration of the chair. It’s so fucking weird. Like he’s a giant Hitachi or somethin’.”

“What do you know about Hitachis?” he says instead of anything else, just to make Jensen laugh again. He stands over them and looks down at Jensen’s face, at the way he’s now watching Jared through his lashes and flashing his most knowing smile on a very Christmasy, red glitter mouth.

“I used one on your dick this summer, remember? We borrowed it from Adri? You let me tie you up and--”

“Oh, god,” Jason groans, one big paw lighting on Jensen’s tiny hip and squeezing hard enough to make Jared grit his teeth. “I bet that feels fuckin’ amazing.”

“He seemed to like it,” Jensen replies, so comfortable in Jason’s lap, with that hand holding him down, his ass vibrating against Jason’s impressively fat cock through his thin jeans. Jensen rests fully against Jason like he’s a chair, his head back against his shoulder, the white-blond of his hair long now, brushing along his jaw. He looks like a soaking wet dream, like Jared should be paying him by the fucking hour. His voice is small in that way it gets when he knows he’s being seductive. “Didn’t you, baby?”

“Jason, do you want ice cream? Little bit here is determined to freeze to death before Christmas, apparently.” Jared reaches down and gathers both of Jensen’s wrists in one hand, hauling him up from Jason’s body and depositing him on his feet at his side, where he belongs. Jason’s machine stops right on cue, and he sighs wistfully before hauling himself up from it.

Jason’s hard dick is so visible that Jared swears to fuck he could count the veins in it through his tight jeans, if he wanted to. Jared keeps a deathgrip on Jensen’s wrist, probably cutting off his circulation, but Jensen never minds.

“Only if I can get it on a waffle cone,” Jason says, tugging his Iron Maiden shirt down to cover his dick before Jensen reaches out to snag Jason’s hand, threading their fingers together like they’re on a middle school cafeteria date.

Jensen scoffs, tugging Jason along toward the food court, Jared following along with all the bags and a forced grip on Jensen’s arm.

“Like there’s any other way to eat it,” Jensen replies, swinging their hands between them, so easy and carefree that Jared feels something flip in his stomach.

It’s fine.

 

\---

 

“Oh, man, are you serious?!”

Jared looks up from where he’s sewing a patch on the crotch of his favorite jeans that have ripped due to time and being worn on stage nearly every single night and dating a nympho, curiosity drawing his attention away from his pridefully careful stitches to Momo’s bunk a few yards away.

He wishes he could hit mute on Jeff’s Judas Priest playlist so he could hear what the fuck’s going on a little better, but Jeff is blissed out on the other side of the couch, his eyes closed as a beautiful boy licks his boots clean with a reverence that almost makes Jared feel dirty for witnessing. Jeff needs his soundtrack.

When he hears what he expects to hear--the happy chirrup of Jensen’s voice--drifting out of the bunk followed by Jason’s delighted laughter and then silence, Jared’s mouth falls into a thin, tensed line, denim curling in his grip. He looks back down at his work, at the thin, veined skin on the back of his large hand, at the needle held between his fingers.

It’s a white-hot pain, so small and brief it barely registers, but the first bubble of blood to the surface as the needle goes through his skin makes his heart race, a strange comfort in the sight of it. The needle comes out the other side, piercing between the inked wolf’s eyes, the burn of it quieting the racing paranoia of his mind, forcing him to breathe. He opens his hand, spreading his fingers wide, and holds in a grunt as he slowly closes it into a fist, the needle drawing tight beneath the surface, ripping skin in miniscule tears.

“Your girl is so amazing,” Jason says suddenly, ignoring the scene going on and plopping down on the couch between Jeff and Jared. Jensen appears behind him, grinning all shy like he does when he’s proud of himself, dressed all sweet and snuggly in his piggy onesie pajamas, the hood pulled over his head.

“C’mere,” Jared says to him, keeping the plea out of his voice with effort. Jensen comes to him gladly, lowering down into Jared’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, cheek against his shoulder. Jared abandons his pants, tossing them slowly to the side, his left hand still attached with the threaded needle pierced through the top of it. He wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist, squeezing through the baby softness of his pajamas to get at the carefully-starved body underneath. “What’d you do?”

“Nothin’,” Jensen says, bashful as the blushing pig face on the hoodie of his onesie, his distracted eyes a few feet away on Jeff and his boy.

“Got me a present,” Jason says proudly, lifting up the tiny rainbow, crystal-rimmed half a heart on the thin silver chain on his neck, so short that it’s practically choking him. “We’re best friends.”

Jensen makes a sound, small and sweet, squirming in Jared’s lap and hugging fitfully at Jared’s neck.

“Do you really like it?” he asks Jason, and Jared can feel him smiling because he already knows. Of course he does.

“I _love_ it,” Jason grins, letting the necklace drop back to his tanned skin, looking like a fucking god sitting there bare-chested and inked all to hell amongst mortals, his hair wild and newly bleached (with help from Jensen, of course) and tumbling down around his shoulders. He leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of Jensen’s nose. “Thanks, babe.”

“Don’t you wanna get back to..?” Jensen asks when Jason relaxes back against the couch, his black yoga pants clinging everywhere. Jared clenches his hand into an even tighter fist, tears edging into his eyes.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Jason dismisses with a wave of his hand, looking now between Jensen and where Jeff is leaning over and working his fist back into his boy’s ass. “They passed out before I could get a sixth one out of ‘em. I’ve got a couple of hours while they sleep it off.”

“You’re a beast,” Jensen purrs, lifting one of his black-socked feet to nudge at Jason’s thigh. Jason grins, shark-sharp and pleased, one of his wicked eyebrows dancing up as he covers Jensen’s little foot with his hand and throws him a wink.

Jared feels completely invisible, like a fucking chair or something, and he wonders now if this is what it’s like to be one of Jeff’s boys, the kind who turn into tables or footstools or ashtrays for hours on end.

He could never be a sub. Not fucking _ever_.

“Daddy,” Jensen says, suddenly soft and quiet, his whole little body tucked up tight against Jared’s. “What’d you do?”

It’s a sacred word to them, one Jared doesn’t get much outside of their bunk, or outside of Jensen’s body, and it warms him, makes him feel fed. He ignores how fucking pathetic that is.

“Hn?” But he already knows. Jensen is cupping his left hand in both of his own, bringing it up close to his face so he can see through all the black ink.

“Why’d you…” Jensen is straddling him now, both knees dug into the cushions on either side of Jared’s body, completely blocking the rest of the bus from Jared’s eyes.

Fine by him.

“Present for you,” Jared replies easily, grabbing the thread with his right hand and yanking on it, way too pleased with the sympathetic hiss Jensen lets out when the needle gets pulled out of Jared’s hand. Blood bubbles back to the surface in oozy drops, and he holds it up even closer for Jensen, hovering just in front of his mouth.

Jensen’s eyes are crystalline and dark, his whole face shadowed under his childish piggy hood. He’s looking at the little beads of blood on Jared’s hand like a baby vamp, perfect white teeth flashing as his tongue slides across them and then across his bubblegum mouth slicked with cotton candy Lipsmackers.

Jensen’s tongue is wet and warm in its slow drag over Jared’s dirty skin, and it’s not nearly enough blood for a gulp, but the taste of it has Jensen flushed on his round cheeks, has him shifting tighter in Jared’s lap to snug down against his dick.

Jared squeezes at his own hand, forcing the last few drops of blood to the surface, and he lets Jensen get in one more lick before he’s pulling him in to suck the taste out of his still-open mouth, fingers fumbling at the back of Jensen’s onesie for the buttons separating him from that ass in stolen Little Mermaid panties that is probably still dripping with come from their pre-dawn fuck.

He feels Jason’s eyes, feels his attention on them instead of the boy getting his rose fucked on the other end of the couch, and he makes sure to show off how juicy Jensen’s ass is when he grips it in his hands, makes sure Jason sees the way flesh spills from between his fingers and sees how soft his cunt is, how creamy and loved he is.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Jared mumbles against his mouth just to hear Jensen laugh, a tiny, breathless huff that spills between their lips when Jared pops the head of his dick in and slides home, sweet home.

 

\---

  

“And I know it shouldn’t matter,” Adrianne says, muffled because she’s got her face buried in the guts of the bus’s engine like it’s a pink cunt, her biceps bulging and tensed as she twists some kind of tool into… something. Jared has no fucking clue. He’s here for pills and to hand her tools that she has to point to and apparently to listen to girl troubles. “But… I don’t know how I’m supposed to go there and act like everything is okay. I’m gonna have to look at their baby. I’m gonna have to, like. Look at a baby that will look like both of them.”

“Mad toss-up on the hair color, right?” he asks nursing on a beer he’d gotten from the fridge so he’d have something to do with his hands while she figured out whatever was making that weird sound that Chad keeps insisting he hears, but only at night.

She turns to glare at him, but it’s light and vaguely appreciative.

“Hand me a ratchet,” she says. “Three-eighths.”

He just stares at her, beer paused against his bottom lip.

“The medium-sized one,” she clarifies.

“Right,” he mumbles, digging around in Jeff’s ancient toolbox and having to find all three ratchets to make sure the one he’s handing her is ‘the medium-sized one’. She squints at it for a few beats before turning back to the engine.

“I guess what hurts is…” She grunts, giving an extra-hard turn to something that clunks loud enough to echo in the mostly empty gas station parking lot. “It’s what _our_ baby would look like. You know?”

“If you weren’t impotent, you mean,” he replies, braced for the punch she delivers with blazing accuracy on his arm.

“I fucking hate you,” she tells him, snatching his beer away and tossing the ratchet back in the toolbox.

A loud shriek has them both jumping, and Jared is attentive immediately, pushed up as tall as his big body can be, his shoulders back, ready to charge.

It’s his worst nightmare, if he’s being perfectly fucking honest. Jensen being abducted and raped and murdered in some shitty bathroom at a Valero station in Arizona.

“Where’s my fucking gun,” he growls, and he takes a single step towards the door of the bus before he hears Chad’s bellowing yelp that sounds way too much like Goofy. He turns and squints in the midday sun to follow the sound, and every single muscle in his body relaxes when he sees them.

Jason has Jensen on his shoulders like he’s a toddler, his bare, freshly shaved legs shining on either side of Jason’s head, his arms wrapped in a desperate hug around Jason’s neck.

Chad, motherfucking Chad, is riding Jason piggyback, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around Jensen’s, and his face buried in Jensen’s ass.

“Jesus Christ,” Jared mumbles as Adrianne lets out a bark of laughter.

“How the fuck is Jason carrying both of them?” Adrianne finishes off the beer and steals Jared’s cigarette too, shaking her head as they watch Jason run in circles around the parking lot with two shrimpy carry-ons clinging to him.

“Because they weigh a hundred pounds combined. Maybe.” Jared’s heart is still thumping in his ears, adrenaline making his hands shake, his chest heave. He watches Jason run in increasingly tighter circles until he’s just spinning in place, and Jensen curls down around Jasons’s head to hug his whole body against him, his laughter echoing all around them, annoying the few people getting gas or cigarettes and making Jared’s heart ache.

Chad finally just falls off and Jason keeps going, spinning Jensen but moving him from his shoulders and down into his arms until they’re finally face-to-face, grinning at each other like they’re in a fucking music video.

“They’re so damn cute,” Adrianne says, passing Jared his cigarette back and turning her attention back to the bus, rolling the sleeves of her Cleveland Browns tee before diving back in.

Jared doesn’t say anything back, just sucks hard at the rest of the cigarette and watches the way Jensen wraps his legs around Momo’s waist and they press their foreheads together as Jason slows to a stop, nobody reacting to the way Chad is yowling in pain on the pavement a few feet away.

“Did you forget the drinks?” Jared calls over at them, cigarette tucked between his fore and middle fingers, burning down close to the filter now. It would be so quick and simple to press the cigarette to his skin, high up near the bend of his elbow where he’d really feel it, right over top of his old junkie scars. He catches the thought just as it’s happening and drops the cigarette, putting it out with a twist of his boot.

“Chad, go get the stuff!” Jensen orders, dropping down from Jason’s big body, his baby blue jellies touching the ground, yellow polish peeking through the slits of them. Toes that Jared painted last night. Chad makes his way to his feet and limps back toward the building just as Jensen takes a step back and wobbles on his feet, laughing at how dizzy he is just as Jason reaches out for him so he doesn’t fall on his ass.

“Careful,” Jared can hear Jason whisper with a laugh, his hands sliding down Jensen’s back to steady him right in the arch of it.

A sick feeling washes over Jared, cold, so much like the moment just before he pukes in the tiny bus bathroom or an alleyway or beside his truck after he goes to visit Daniel in the cemetery.

It’s almost foreign to him at this point in his life, a brand of despair he hasn’t felt in so long, especially not this far from Georgia.

“Jay?”

Adrianne’s voice makes him start but he doesn’t look away, can’t tear his eyes from the massive sunshine grin on Jason’s face, on the easy way he tucks Jensen’s hair behind his ear and grabs his hand to lead him back toward the bus, can’t look away from the simple, bright joy radiating from Jensen, something Jared’s never seen on him when it’s just the two of them.

It’s a happiness that seems reserved for Jason and Jason alone.

“Yeh?” He fumbles around in his pocket for his cigarettes, only time-honed control keeping the tremble out of his hands.

“There’s nothing there, you know,” she says, meeting Jared’s eyes when his head snaps up, caught. He huffs out a laugh, flicking his broken, favorite lighter, the same one he’d used in high school to light the cigarette that scarred the inside of Daniel’s wrist forever.

“I didn’t--”

“For real.” She narrows her eyes at him and raises her eyebrows, her smile surprisingly gentle. “Like… nothing. It’s not like that. I promise.”

He looks away, focusing on returning the lighter to his pocket and on watching the smoke that curls out of his tense mouth.

He’s ready to believe her, to give some indication of it anyway, but it’s way too easy to picture them, to imagine Jensen naked and soft with care in Jason’s lap, surrounded by candles that Jason would so take the time to light, to imagine the devouring way Jason would kiss him and exactly the way Jensen’s cunt would stretch around Jason’s morbidly fat dick, the way his balls would bruise Jensen’s tailbone after he’s done banging him out in the cabin at some yoga retreat.

Way, way too easy.

Chad is back with all the food, armed with bags and containers of nachos and two drink trays loaded with cups, and Jensen plucks one free and brings it to Jared, giving him a smile that pulls at his dimple piercings.

“Cherry Dr. Pepper. I can’t believe they had it.” Jensen opens a straw and punches it down into the lid before handing it over. “And I got you a hotdog, is that okay? I made sure to put lots of relish and onions.”

“Perfect, babe.” He cups Jensen’s cheek and leans down to kiss his forehead, swearing he tastes Jason’s sweat there. “Thanks. Go ahead and get on the bus. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Jensen looks so pleased with being a good girl, with making Jared happy, and he actually skips to the bus and hops up each step, deaf to the sounds of Chad struggling to carry everything behind him.

“Hey, man. Got you a carton. I know you’re almost out,” Jason says, clamping a hand down on Jared’s shoulder, the heat of his skin seeping through Jared’s shirt.

Jared forces what he possesses of a smile onto his face.

“Thanks, man.”

Jason grins, such a natural, instinctive thing for him to do, and he walks away after clapping Jared twice on the chest, right over his heart.

He takes a deep breath and a long drink of his Dr. Pepper, so easily calling up the exact way that Erica would roll her eyes at him, if she was here.

“You’ve got a fucking overactive imagination, Padaface,” she’d say with a shake of her head that would make the witchy fall of her hair bounce. “Chill out.”

“Hand me the breaker bar,” Adrianne says.

Jared turns to look at her, straw between his lips.

“The what?”

 

\---

 

Spin the Lube Bottle is a time-honored Fuckpig bus tradition, mostly because they enjoy watching Adrianne have to kiss dudes.

Adri’s squirt queen Chloe has joined them the last couple of stops, and she’s curled up happy and dehydrated in Adrianne’s lap on the floor, nursing on a bottle of Gatorade while everybody else drinks Wild Turkey.

“Spin for me. I’m lazy,” Chloe says to Adrianne, wiggling her butt in Adrianne’s lap and grinning up at her like she knows how cute she is. Jared smirks; it reminds him so much of Jensen.

Adrianne sighs, grumbling under her breath but she leans forward and spins the mostly empty bottle of Swiss Navy, leaning back to watch where it lands.

On her.

Adrianne wolf-grins, sliding her hand down Chloe’s ass and slipping her fingers under her running shorts, probably getting three fingers into her pussy as she leans in and kisses Chloe, thick and luscious and like more of a Daddy than him, Jeff, and Jason combined, Jared would fucking swear to it.

“Alright, alright, c’mon,” Jeff says, nudging at Adrianne’s leg with a socked foot, his hair bed-messy, thick, black-framed glasses perched on his nose. “That girl needs all the moisture she can get, leave her alone.”

Chloe hides her shy smile against Adrianne’s neck, and Adrianne smirks over at Jeff before holding her girl close and leaning forward again, spinning the lube with a deft flick of her wrist.

Jensen is seated a couple of feet away from Jared to make the spin-turns easier to identify, his hair pulled back in a lazy, white ponytail, a pink shirt with a big rainbow and ‘death metal’ written on it in bubbly letters pulled tight across his bony, flat chest. Jared wants him suddenly, feels it like a car crash, wants him close and warm, wants to smell his skin and his coconut-scented hair and hear his soft breaths and feel him laugh.

He nearly reaches over, touches Jensen’s bare feet, his pretty, violet-glittered toes, but he refrains, pulls the need back in and forces it down deep.

It’s fucking ridiculous how soft he’s getting in his old age.

After Adrianne kisses Chad for the third time (and gags so convincingly after she does), Chad spins and lands on little Jenny Ackles.

“Yesssssss,” he grins, fluffing up his turquoise, limp hawk and shuffling on his knees across the carpet to come to a stop in front of Jensen. “You promised.”

Jensen pouts, slumping over in a childish slouch and turning pleading eyes on Jared.

“Baby, do I _have_ to?”

Jared shrugs, taking the offered bong from Jeff and trying to look fatherly.

“A promise is a promise,” he tells him.

“But--”

Chad kisses Jensen, shoving his tongue in his mouth so fast that Jensen, bottomless cunt that he is, nearly gags. It lasts for all of fifteen seconds, and Jensen tears himself away and wipes hard at his mouth, glaring up at Chad with everything he’s worth.

“You literally licked my tonsils!”

Chad flicks his tongue at Jensen, double-pierced and freakishly long. Jared sees Chloe perk up with interest out of the corner of his eye.

“You keep that in mind,” Chad replies with a smarmy grin, holding Jensen’s eyes as he slithers back to his spot between Jeff and Adrianne.

Jensen grabs the bottle of bourbon and takes three big gulps that he chokes on at the very end, and he grabs the bong gratefully from Jared when he’s put the lid back on.

“Have we finally found somebody you’d flat-out refuse to fuck?” Jeff asks Jensen, watching him with a smirk that has even Jared squirming. Jensen looks over at Chad again who wags his eyebrows right back, his tongue sliding out between the V of his fingers.

“Nnnn… nah. I’d probably fuck him,” Jensen says, grinning when everybody breaks up into coughing, wheezy laughs, except Chad who looks stunned, like he’s holding the winning Powerball numbers.

“Wait, wh--”

“My turn!” Jensen chirps. He leans forward, making sure his back is arched and his red thong is showing for Jared, and spins the bottle, staying curled over with elbows on the ground while he waits for it to stop.

On Jason Momoa.

“Ooooh!” Jensen purrs, absolutely beaming as he pushes onto his knees and crawls across the circle to stop in front of Jason, looking pint-sized and obscenely young in front of the thick, eternally bare-chested man with a topknot and an empty lap. Jason’s smile is something Jared’s only seen when he’s about to sink into a warm hole, and the rumble of everybody catcalling and shit-talking making Jared push back out of the circle a little, his back resting on the wall beneath the TV, his stomach twisting up as he watches, unblinking.

“You gonna kiss me from all the way down there?” Jason raises a pointy eyebrow and leans back against the couch, displaying his lap and the fact that he never wears underwear. The little rainbow half-heart around his neck looks fucking ridiculous, and Jared can’t help but notice that Jensen’s wearing his matching one, like he always does.

“No,” Jensen says, defiant and bratty like he is when he wants to be spanked or fucked bloody, and he climbs into Jason’s lap with the ease of a boy who’s used to riding dick, who knows how much men love having a warm, soft thing in their laps. His legs have to spread wide for Jason’s body, wider than they ever would for Jared, his hands sliding up Jason’s bare chest nice and slow before he wraps his skinny arms around his neck. Jason grabs Jensen’s hips and tugs him in closer by his belt loops, snugging him in tight against his body.

“There’s my little kitten,” Jason says softly, four words that make Jensen all but melt on top of Jason, his little fingers pushing up into the back of Jason’s pulled-up hair as he stretches up long enough for their mouths to line up. They kiss like it’s not the first time, and Jason’s grinning like he’s found bliss inside of a newly sixteen-year-old mouth, his hands spreading out on Jensen’s lower back, the tips of a few of his fingers slipping down beneath the waist of his shorts, touching skin that Jared has licked and kissed and jizzed on more times than he could ever count.

It’s a slow kiss, one with thick licks of tongues and big, deep sighs and a warm moan from Jensen, and Jared realizes that he all of a sudden feels like he’s not in his body anymore.

He watches with dreamlike detachment as Jason’s arms slide up and wrap around Jensen, hugging him up close while they tip their heads in opposite directions, changing up the angle of the kiss and settling in to enjoy it. The yells and whistles get even louder, and Chloe is vocalizing 70s porn music from Adrianne’s lap until Jensen has to break away to laugh, his mouth kiss-bruised and wet, cheeks bright pink like a little girl in anime.

“Stop!” he laughs, swatting at Chloe and giving Jason one last smack on the lips before he slides out of his lap and scurries back over to his spot.

Jared feels the smile on his own face, the small thing that signifies to others that ‘I’m fine,’ a smile that took Jared years to call up on instinct. There’s a sudden, undeniable wash of emotion that takes over him, some dark thing so much like sorrow that edges in and obliterates him, changes him. Alters colors and adds layers between Jared and everybody else, pulls him back deeper into the recesses of his mind, where it’s safe.

Grief. He feels grief.

Jensen's against him now, warm arms around his neck, kissed mouth pressing over and over against his cheek, giggles huffing soft and elated in his ear. He wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist and pulls him in close, all sound slowly fading out, replaced by a quiet, low ringing in his ears.

He’s gone, checked out, and not a single person but Jeff Morgan, who has been quiet since the bottle landed on Jason and not taken his eyes off of Jared since, notices and knows it for what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> [the piggie pjs.](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1BFhlIXXXXXXxXVXXq6xXFXXXn/HOT-New-JP-Anime-Pink-Pig-Polar-Fleece-Onesie-Cartoon-Pajamas-Adult-Pyjamas-Party-in-Stock.jpg) jsyk<3
> 
>  
> 
> [link to the tumblr post.](http://dollylux.tumblr.com/post/162616419481/title-state-of-love-and-trust-a-fuckpig-verse)


End file.
